The Return of Starbuck, Part II
by GreyGregory14
Summary: When Starbuck tries to follow the Galactica's secret heading back to the Fleet and is taken captive on a Cylon basestar, the Cylons are ready to employ extreme measures to make him reveal the Galactica's coordinates.
1. The Planet Starbuck

Chapter 1

A crisp morning breeze assaulted me as I perched halfway up the rocky incline behind my shelter. I inhaled deeply, then shivered. One of the benefits of planet life was unfiltered air that smelled like vegetation and water vapor and dirt – or, on this planet, mainly just dirt. It was a smell I had never really noticed before joining the service and spending sectons at a time out in space, returning home to Caprica for brief furlons. Now that we were fugitives with only a battlestar and an odd assortment of spaceships to call home, planet visitations were few and far between, and I tried to make the most of each surface patrol or mission.

Of course, missions – or even visits resulting from crash-landings – were never longer than a couple days. This particular visit, on the other hand, had lasted over three sectons, and by this time I was getting disenchanted with the crude lifestyle, limited food and resources, and harsh weather. I shivered again, wishing I had thought to bring my jacket with me. It was all the way down inside the shelter, and even if I hadn't been too lazy to go get it, I wouldn't go back just yet. Angela was still asleep, and today, she deserved all the rest she could get.

I gazed thoughtfully at the cloudless sky. Who would have believed all that had happened in my short time on this planet? Thanks to my Viper's automatic escape pod, I had miraculously survived a devastating crash. Then, I found a Cylon ship occupied by three Cylons who hadn't been so lucky. After pillaging their ship for materials for a shelter, I had somehow gotten the crazy idea to try and repair one of them so I could have someone to talk to. Even crazier was the fact that I succeeded, and then convinced a less-than-friendly Cylon that we could coexist, and even learn from each other. I had called him Cy, and taught him how to play Pyramid, but it wasn't enough. In an attempt to alleviate my boredom, Cy had managed to find and bring back a woman named Angela, whose origins remained mysterious, and who was carrying a child. At her insistence, Cy and I had built a craft from his ship and my escape pod which we had finished yesterday. That was when Angela went into labor and, perhaps most incredible of all, I had singlehandedly delivered her baby boy.

"Starbuck, will you give your life for this child?" she had asked me. She was obviously emotionally overwrought after the trauma of giving birth. I had tried to reassure her that everything would be all right, that we had a whole new life ahead of us. Angela, however, seemed convinced that some sort of doom was upon us. "You must prepare yourself to make the final judgment," she declared. "Tomorrow is our last day."

Although most of what she said didn't make sense, I hoped she was right about today being our last day. The ship Cy and I had made was ready to go, and so was I. If Angela was up to it, we could leave the planet today. I had no idea where in the galaxy we would go, but nearly anything was better than this barren desert planet with its frozen nights and the winds that circled endlessly round and round. If nothing else, we could at least find a planet with better living conditions, and maybe even a human civilization. But in that case, we would have to figure out how Cy would fit in with our plans.

That was the one problem I kept coming back to: Cy couldn't seem to get over the fact that he was a Cylon and I was a human, and therefore we should not be friends. The funny thing was, his refusal seemed to stem less from loyalty to the Cylon empire and more from jealousy of Angela, and the fact that we humans naturally fit in with each other while he was the lone Cylon. I would never have guessed that a Cylon, being a machine, could take offense or imagine that he was an outcast. I'd been amazed at his initial ignorance about humans, but now I was beginning to wonder just how much we humans didn't know about our enemy. I was able to persuade Cy not to kill me; was there a way that we could persuade the Cylon empire not to exterminate the human race? That the empire's goal of organizing the universe was, in the end, futile and pointless?

A sudden flash of light in the distance caught my attention. I jumped to my feet, trying to catch a glimpse of the source, but it was just out of view. Whatever it was lay far away from my shelter and Cy's ship, out where there should only be rocks and sand, nothing that could glint in the sun. I scrambled over the incline until I reached an outcropping high enough for a clear perspective. Then, my heart sank down into my boots.

Just this side of the distant cliffs was a Cylon fighter. And in front of the fighter, three Cylon Centurions were tramping steadily in this direction. _The automatic beacon from the Cylon ship will soon bring hostiles searching for their own,_ Angela had said. As with most of her cryptic ramblings, I had played along without really believing her, building a ship for our escape just to keep her happy. Now, it turned out she knew what she was talking about.

I dashed down the incline toward the shelter, barely keeping my footing on the jagged rocks. I had to warn Angela and get her and her baby to the ship before it was too late. There was no way I could fight off three Cylons on my own. Then my heart, which could sink no lower, started bleeding out of my boots. Make that four Cylons, counting Cy. Now that his fellow Cylons had arrived, he would likely try to regroup with them. And if he did, I would have to kill him.

I started calling Angela's name as I approached the shelter and burst inside, only to find her awake and calmly rocking the Cylon rudder which was now the baby's cradle. She glanced up at me, her brown curls immaculate as always, her blue eyes mildly inquiring.

"They're here – three of them, fully armed," I announced, yanking my laser holster down from where it hung on a lip of rock. "Listen, we'd better get ready."

"Who is here, Starbuck?"

I whirled around, laser drawn, to find Cy standing in front of the door. I hadn't noticed him sitting in the corner by the crank generator when I entered. I faced him, breathing hard, pointing my laser straight at his metallic chest plate. "Your people," I answered. "Centurions."

Cy began to turn away. "I must go."

"Cy!" He turned back. If my words weren't enough to stop him, I would have to stop him permanently. "Don't," I said, willing him to listen. "Don't make me do it."

"Goodbye, Starbuck," he replied. I tightened my grip on my laser. He turned to Angela and the baby. "Goodbye, Angela. Goodbye, godson."

I felt actual pain at hearing his name for the baby, remembering last night, when I had tried to include him in Angela's and my post-birth rejoicing. I told him he could be the child's godfather, a "special friend to the family, throughout life." Now, that life was going to end at my hand.

He was turning once again. "Cy, no!" I pleaded. "No!" I watched in anguish as, without another word, he continued out the door and was gone.

It took me a moment to realize that I hadn't killed him. I turned to Angela, who had watched the whole scene in grave silence.

"I couldn't do it," I protested. "We can't trust him; he's one of them. He can't help himself." The Cylons would be drawing steadily closer, and Cy could lead them right to us. "Listen, our only chance is to get to the ship."

"We're ready," said Angela, gently lifting the baby out of the cradle. She was just as calm as if she had been expecting everything that had transpired so far this morning.

I stared at her in bewilderment. "You're ready? How did you know? How do you . . . know everything before it happens?"

She stood and gave me a look of mild impatience. "I told you last night, Starbuck, that you had to prepare yourself – for this is judgment day."

A confusing mixture of emotions arose, and I was speechless. If this was judgment day, I certainly hadn't prepared myself. I didn't even know what I was supposed to prepare for, or how.

Angela smiled kindly, as if she knew my thoughts, and touched me on the arm. "Come, Starbuck, we must hurry."

Centons later, Angela had climbed the mounting ladder into the ship, and I climbed up after her with the baby. He was so light, I could hold him with one arm. When I reached the top of the ladder, I carefully handed him to his mother, catching a glimpse of his tiny sleeping face amidst the silver blanket. Reluctantly, I let him go, knowing I would probably never see him again and finding it suddenly very important.

There was one more thing I needed to ask the mysterious woman who knew more about what was going on than I did. "Angela," I asked humbly, nervously, "what did you mean by _judgment day_? Who's going to be judging me?"

She turned her solemn gaze upon me, and her eyes seemed to bore into my soul. "We all judge ourselves, Starbuck."

"Well, I hope so, because I plan on being very easy on myself in certain, uh, categories," I said, only half joking.

We were running out of time. "Now, look," I said, "if I run into trouble, just push that button." I pointed to a square, black button on the right side of the control panel. "The ship's programmed to head towards the Fleet's secret heading. No matter how far she deviates to avoid Cylons, she'll always return to that heading sooner or later. The ship will also automatically lower your body temperatures to sustain life for a maximum period of time."

Angela was giving me that earnest look again, and I wondered whether she had heard any of my instructions. "You _are_ a good man," she declared. "You couldn't hurt Cy, and now you send us off, knowing that without you, the fuel will last twice as long."

"Who says I'm not coming along?" I smiled innocently. Her expression told me she wasn't buying it. I studied her for a moment, trying to decipher how she could tell so easily what I was thinking. Maybe the Pyramid face I'd perfected over the yahrens was getting a little rusty after three sectons on this planet.

"Goodbye, Starbuck," she said in that soft, melodious voice of hers. She placed her hand on top of mine where it rested on the side of the ship and gazed deeply into my eyes. "I truly love you."

Of all the people in the universe, I at least should understand the meaning of those words coming from the mouth of a woman. But Angela was one woman I had not even come close to understanding, and her words were more flustering than gratifying.

"Look," I stammered, "I'd better . . . seal the ship. Just in case." I broke away from Angela's gaze and pressed the button to close the canopy. Then I clambered down the ladder, tossed it out of the way, activated the external launch control on the side of the ship, and ran down the hill as fast as I could.

I turned around just in time to watch the turbos fire and the makeshift craft blast upward into the atmosphere, traveling off on a tangent until the low rumble of its pulsars could no longer be heard. Angela's parting words lingered in the empty air.

"I love you too," I murmured. "Both of you."

Whistling sounds directly followed by explosions jarred my consciousness, and I instinctively broke into a run before I'd even seen the laser blasts streaking the ground in front of my feet or the Cylons from which they came just appearing over a rise. Dodging the fatal beams, I slid behind a boulder that came up to shoulder height and crouched down against it, using the temporary safety to catch my breath and hopefully come up with a plan of attack. I sneaked another look at the three death machines marching relentlessly forward, projecting a regular meteor shower of laser fire in front of them.

"Oh, felgercarb," I groaned. "Three against one. Well, this isn't gonna be fair."

"Three against two is better." I jerked around to see Cy coming out of the shelter, and relief washed over me. He hadn't betrayed us after all. He was still on my side.

As he approached, Cy drew from his holster his Cylon laser pistol, which had been damaged somehow when the Raider crashed. It was a good thing, too, since the first thing the Cylon had done when I revived him was try to shoot me.

"Cy! That thing doesn't work, remember?"

"I repaired it," the Cylon said matter-of-factly. Ah, that explained why he had left Angela and me – he was getting his weapon and repairing it. But there was no way he could have repaired it so quickly. I got a funny feeling when I realized he must have fixed it some time ago when I wasn't looking, maybe during the night when we humans were getting our required rest. I had to wonder whether he had done it as a basic survival measure, or whether he distrusted me enough to want protection. But it didn't matter now.

"Wait here," Cy ordered, tramping towards the approaching Cylons.

"Cy, you can't go out there!" I protested. With the odds against us, our strategy would depend on the advantage the boulder could give as a shield to shoot from behind. A direct frontal assault would never succeed.

Ignoring me completely, the Cylon marched right past the boulder into the open. I sighed, wondering what in the galaxy he was trying to do. The Cylons had stopped shooting sometime after they lost sight of me behind the boulder, and they did not start again when Cy came into view. I threw furtive glances around the boulder to see the three Cylons and Cy approach each other until they came to a halt about six metrons apart. All four of them had their weapons trained on each other.

"Greetings, Centurion," said one of the three. "Identify."

"I am group leader Cyrus," said Cy. I was struck with how fitting my nickname for him actually was. "Lower your weapons," he commanded.

The Cylons complied, but asked at the same time, "And where is the human."

I waited in suspense for Cy's answer. There was a pause for a few microns. Then he said, "I extend my weapon, that I may perform the following function."

A laser blast issued from his weapon and downed the Centurion on the right. Another blast took out the one in the middle. I was amazed at how well Cy's plan was actually working – like a human, he was relying on the element of surprise.

And then it happened. The systematic killing of his comrades had given the third Cylon time to recognize what was happening and react. Before Cy could shoot again, the other Centurion raised his weapon and fired. There was a massive burst of sparks from Cy's chest plate, and he began to totter.

I leaped out from behind the boulder and shot an indelible mark in the other Cylon's chest plate, causing him to collapse. Then I ran as fast as I could toward Cy, calling his name as he sank to his knees.

"Cy!" I reached the Centurion before he fell over completely and lowered him onto my lap. "You saved our lives!" The Cylon was unresponsive. I ran my eyes over the shiny metal which reflected the sky above, looking for damage. "Cy, are you all right?"

"I don't think so," he said without emotion. "My circuits are fading."

"No, Cy! No!" After we made it this far together, he couldn't just die! Two humans and three Cylons had come and gone, and we were still not enemies.

"Cy, it's just you and me now," I said in a near-whisper, fighting a lump in my throat. "One human. One Cylon."

"No, Starbuck," he replied. "Not human. Not Cylon." His hand reached up to rest against my cheek. "Friends."

The low droning of the visual scanner grew slower and slower until it faded completely, the red eye rolling to a stop on one side. The Cylon's arm dropped, and his head fell sideways. He was dead.

I don't know how long I sat there with his form resting on top of me, feeling and trying not to feel. He was a Cylon, for crying out loud! Why should I care? But my chest heaved and my heart ached with sorrow which I couldn't deny any more than I could explain it. He had given his life to save me. He was my friend.

As time passed, I grew acutely aware that I was once again the lone inhabitant of the Planet Starbuck. Angela and the baby were gone, which left me with four dead Cylons. The isolation was worse now than it had been when I arrived. I needed to leave.

Getting out from under the Cylon, I realized I must have been there for a while since my legs were almost completely numb. I stumbled over to the shelter and packed up what was left of my supplies, then hurried toward the Raider the Cylons had left below the cliff. As soon as I regained enough feeling in my legs, I ran the rest of the way.

When I reached the ship, I did a quick check to make sure she was operational, then climbed inside and prepared to launch. Up to that point, I had refused to look back at where I had come from. But now, I took one last look through the viewport at the planet which had been my home and the machine which had been my companion for the past few sectons. Then I launched into space, hoping I would never see any of it again.

**_Sorry this has been taking so long, but I haven't been writing chronologically. Next chapter should be done faster._**


	2. Out There Amongst the Stars

Chapter 2

I was in a metallic space surrounded by high walls on all sides. A faint light radiated from what appeared to be a panel far above me. I tried to get up to examine it, but found I could not move.

"This is Probe One, do you read?" Boomer's voice crackled over what sounded like a com. "Do you read?" I attempted to call out, but speaking was impossible as well.

"Boomer, look at the life form reading!" came the voice of Sheba. "One human. Do you think it could be . . . ?"

"I don't know," Boomer replied. "I'm not sure that's even possible at this point. And look at the construction of that thing – the tail end looks like it was made by Cylons. It might be a trick."

"But Boomer, there's a human on that ship. If it isn't a trick, then whoever it is might need our help. I think we should try to rescue the ship and bring it back to the _Galactica_."

Boomer let out an audible sigh. "Okay, we'll try it, but be careful. Let's just hope whoever it is appreciates our help."

The scene switched suddenly to an area that was much warmer and brighter. Lying on my back, I gazed up at the high, circular ceiling which shone faintly blue with recessed lighting.

"I don't understand! It doesn't make sense!" Cass? I tried to turn my head, but once again found myself immobile.

"It is strange, to be sure. But I'm afraid there is no denying the results." The other speaker sounded a lot like Chameleon.

Approaching footsteps, and suddenly Cass was directly overhead, looking into my eyes. Her brow furrowed in confusion, which gradually melted into wistfulness. "Where are you, Starbuck?" she murmured.

I jerked upward and opened my eyes to see the glowing control panel of a Cylon Raider before me. My heart sank. It had all been a dream.

Checking my timepiece, I found I had been asleep for about three centars. It was the longest I had slept at one time since I'd left the planet two days ago. The fact that I had no place to go, no goal to reach, had made it strangely difficult to relax. And the hunger pangs weren't helping either.

"Let's see where we are," I said aloud, pressing a button several times until the scanner switched to short-range scan. The Cylon instruments weren't exactly intuitive, but with a bit of experimenting, I felt like I was on track to understanding how they all worked in about a yahren or so. Hopefully I could get by with knowing little more than how to launch, land, scan, and fire the lasers until then. I briefly wondered whether the Cylons would have installed a self-destruct button that was just waiting to be discovered, but dismissed the idea as unlikely.

"Hmm, not much happening around here. A couple small planets which, according to this handy little scanner, don't seem to have an atmosphere compatible with life forms."

Disappointed, I switched back to long scan. What was I really expecting? A habitable planet complete with food and water and maybe a civilization to pop up just in time to save me? I laughed without humor. Some days it seemed like everything simply fell into place, but other days, no matter how hard I tried, I barely survived by the skin of my teeth. Still, I did survive, until now.

My stomach squeezed painfully in a hopeless search for anything left worth digesting. I licked my lips. "Getting hungry? Yeah, me too. How long has it been since we last ate? Two, three days?" This was getting ridiculous. There was no way that I could make it back to the _Galactica_. If I read the Cylon gauge correctly, my fuel was running out, and I would probably die of starvation even before that. I could already feel the strength draining out of me. My vision was blurry, my mind kept wandering, and for the life of me I couldn't stop talking to myself!

"That's the trouble with these solo missions, Starbuck – they start to drive you a little crazy. Come to think of it, don't remember being completely by myself for so long since . . . actually, since that day of solitary confinement at the Academy. Was that after the firecracker incident? Nah, that wasn't serious enough. It couldn't have been the salt thing – that was at the orphanage. Was it the fight with Charax? Maybe it was just a buildup of offenses. I can't remember anymore."

I pushed a few of the glowing red, white, and green square buttons, then sat back and stared out at the stars, imagining what it would be like to travel a few more centons and stumble upon the _Galactica_. The hunger in my stomach was almost forgotten in the presence of a deeper hunger for my home and the faces of my friends. As much as I'd always had trouble admitting that I formed attachments with people, those attachments had become vitally important now that I was about to lose them. Rather, they were about to lose me. What I wouldn't give to see them once more: to laugh together, fly together, fight together, even die . . . together.

"Come on, Starbuck, get a grip!" I shoved away the dejection that had crept up on me. "If you want to make it back to the _Galactica_, the least you can do is die trying." I leaned forward and checked the controls. After some experimenting with the Cylon-programmed computer, I'd figured out how to set the Raider on course for the _Galactica's_ secret heading, the same one I'd told Angela about. Hopefully she and the little guy were safely on their way. I shut them out of my mind the way I'd been shutting out all memories of the past few sectons. There was too much confusion, too much disappointment, both of which I had enough of already. Scanning the interior of the Cylon fighter, I looked for a way to distract myself from my own thoughts. The small silver survival pack lying on the floor next to me caught my eye. I hoisted it onto my lap and rifled through the contents until I found what I was looking for – a deck of Pyramid cards.

Half a centar later, what had started out as a game of Solitary had morphed into a four-player hand. The raised, flat surface between the Cylon pilot seats, whatever its original purpose, made a terrific card table.

"Okay, Boomer, let's see what you've got," I said, picking up one of the piles arranged on each side of the makeshift table. "Not too bad. But not too good either." I replaced his hand and picked up my own.

"Mm hmm." I did my best to keep my face passive, although there was no one around to fool but myself. "I think we're gonna call. And we have a half pyramid! Hmm, that beats Boomer . . ." I threw his cards into the middle, " . . . that beats Jolly . . ." I did the same with his hand, ". . . but wait a centon, we have a surprise comeback from none other than . . . Lieutenant Sheba, with a three-quarter pyramid!" I mimed a smirk from Sheba, Boomer and Jolly laughing, and me beating my head on the table.

"So, Sheba, just how did you manage to beat some of the best Pyramid players in the universe, including yours truly?" I inquired with a voice that would have gotten me hired on the spot as a reporter for the IFB.

"Are you kidding?" I answered myself in a high-pitched, indignant tone of voice. "My father, the illustrious Commander Cain, taught me how to play at the age of three, and I was beating him and his fellow officers by the age of six." I tossed my hair, which probably looked funny since there wasn't that much to toss. "You mama's boys are simply no match for the daughter of the greatest military commander of all time, and you'd better never forget it."

I chuckled. "Well, that might apply to the rest of the present company, but in case you've forgotten, some of us can't possibly be accused of being a mama's boy, literally or figuratively. For reputation's sake, I hereby challenge you to another hand, one on one."

A sniff and another hair toss. "I accept!"

"Good. I'll deal." I scooped up the cards and started shuffling, laughing a little. Back at the Academy, we used to have competitions of who could do the best imitations of our instructors, a skill which some of us still used in our lighter moments. This wasn't the first time I'd mimicked Sheba since she came to the _Galactica_, but I always made sure only to do it when Apollo wasn't around. The sassy female pilot had become both healthy competition and a good friend, and any teasing in her presence or absence was all in good fun, but Apollo might not understand. No matter how much he denied it, I had my suspicions that he and Sheba were on track to something more than just a professional relationship – and I was kind of an expert on such things.

_Beep beep! Beep beep!_ The deck of cards dropped from my hands as I jumped, exclaiming. I'd been so engrossed in my imaginary game that I'd forgotten to monitor the scanner. I jolted forward and watched as the scanner brought up an image. It was a Cylon basestar, mere kilometrons away. My head jerked up to look out the viewport, and I froze. I was headed on a direct crash course with the basestar's core!

I grabbed the controls and yanked hard to the right. "Come on, baby, come on!" A memory surfaced of Adama chewing me out about another card game with near-disastrous consequences. _How do you get yourself into these fixes? _How, indeed?

A burst of static, and the com suddenly came to life. "For permission to land, please identify," said a monotone Cylon voice.

"I don't want to land, and I definitely don't want to identify," I muttered, steering a little smoother. If I could just get far enough away before the Cylons realized my Raider wasn't flying under orders, I might be able to escape.

"Identify, or we will be forced to fire," the voice came again. Terrific.

"If you insist," I said, swerving back around to face the base ship. I shot my lasers and took out the gun turret directly in front of me. Then I engaged the turbo thrusters, hoping against hope to get away.

But it was too late. In microns, an array of Raiders appeared to the rear on my scanner. I counted one, two, three, four, five. Those were near impossible odds even in a Viper, and I wasn't going to get any help. Maybe shooting at the basestar before flying away had been a bad decision. Either way, I didn't have time for regret at the moment; what I needed was a plan of attack.

The fighters were getting close. They would start firing any micron. I checked my instruments, read the scanner, searched my brain – but there was no way out of this one.

"Well, if it's my time to go, at least I can take a few of them with me." Just a few more microns before they would be on top of me. Swinging around in a tight 180-degree turn, I faced the enemy fighters and started shooting a continuous volley, not bothering to aim. The repetitive thrusting of the laser generators vibrated the entire ship, massaging the adrenaline that pulsed through my blood in my suicide run.

"Eeeee-yoo!" I howled as two Raiders exploded in front of me. Bursting through their dust, I cut hard to the side and came back around to finish off the others.

I should have known by now to account for Cylon reaction time being faster than expected. I should have remembered that my Raider had much less maneuverability than a Viper, and my inexperience cut it down even further. But the thought that I might still have a chance at destroying the Cylons before they got me had me so excited that all other thoughts deserted my brain.

Then it happened. Before I'd even finished the turn, a huge explosion rocked my ship. Red lights and warning klaxons coming from every part of the controls were the last thing I heard as I hurtled out of my seat and my head slammed into something solid.

**_I apologize that this chapter was so long in coming! As I said before, I'm not writing chronologically, so later chapters have been completed already, but I can't publish them until I write the preceding chapters or that would be really confusing LOL. Also, college is keeping me pretty busy at the moment, and when I do get time to write I'm usually ready to fall asleep. But I do think about this story a lot and hope to get more writing done soon. Thanks so much to LAGC, Drandom1, and others who reviewed!_**


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